Robin Electrum: Rogue Calamity
by Artemis Goldborough
Summary: The Justice League is missing! Robin, sixteen year old Dick Grayson, finds himself the sole defender of Gotham. An assassin from the future tries to flirt with him! Flash's rogues try to kill him! A seven year old Impluse and an untrained eight year old Tim Drake try to help him! The result? Disaster! A mutli-chapter standalone set in my Electrum Universe.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. DC Comics does. This just a fun writing exercise.**

**Author's Notes: This story is meant to be read as a standalone. It is the third story I have written for my Electrum Universe. I have an entire outline planned out of the basic events of this universe. I writing the different stories as inspiration and interest strikes. Outside of the events of the individual stories, I am not sticking to chronological order. My next story could be set years later or earlier from this one. **

**Any difference from the cannon comic books is entirely deliberate. The assasin in this story is an oc villian controlling a character who has a DCU counterpart. That ties into my own theories of what really happened to the third Batgirl, Cassandra Cain. ****Alfred's injuries are the result of an event very loosely based on what happened in the sixties comic book where Aunt Harriet first showed up, only without Alfred dying. Contrary to what Comic Vine's article said, Aunt Harriet did first show up in the sixties comic books not the TV show. My Aunt Harriet doesn't nessarily match up with the Silver Age version.**

**Unfortunately the cannon Aunt Harriet was never used past the Silver Age. No version was used in later movies or the cartoons. It's true she would have needed a good deal of tweaking and some retcons to make her better but still there was so much potential. I think it a shame they didn't reinvent her in the Nightwing comic book serving some of the same purposes as Alfred. That's who the original version was created to replace. A strong willed but kind, older female character on Nightwing's side could have added some much needed warmth and humor to the sometimes too dark plots. If I ever get around to writing a Nightwing in Bludhaven story, my version of Aunt Harriet will probably be in it. **

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**Chaper One:**

It was quiet in Gotham City. It had been for several days. This had Robin worried. It was not the only thing worrying him but it was definitely high on his list. The only thing higher was an horrible and lingering question: what had had happened to Batman?

Robin stood on a roof top. The wind moved through his black hair. His costume was not the usual yellow cape and green sleeved red vest. The green shorts was just about the only thing that remained close to the same. He hated the yellow tights that covered his legs. The red shirt with long sleeves that tightly covered his arms. The yellow cape was longer and heavier than usual. The changes were necessary. Gotham City was suffering from of one its coldest winter months on record. To dress otherwise would be to invite sickness or frostbite. He could not afford to risk it. Not while he was the city's sole defender.

The snow was falling even as he stood there. Robin shuddered. Even dressed as he was, he was still chilled. The five story building he stood top of was on the first floor an ice cream shop. Just thinking about that sent more chills through him.

He had stopped a bank robbery and a purse snatcher this night. Arkham's usual were mostly accounted for, still locked up. The ones that weren't was his third great worry.

Across the narrow otherwise empty street, three men were trying to break into a shop. It was a costumes shop. Robin stared in surprise. This was a new one. That shop specialized in period costumes. It was the kind of stuff that had only sold well to Gotham's elite and the city's now bankrupt movie studios. The costumes were high priced to make and sell but the market for such things was currently lousy. Any one could tell just looking that the shop had seen better days. What were three hoodlums doing breaking in?

Robin had two options. He could swing down and stop them, or he could wait until they came out. He wasn't scary like Batman. He couldn't just intimidate the answers out of them. More than half time he tried that tactic he just got laughed at.

So he waited, and waited, and waited some more. It was twenty minutes before the crooks came out. Right at the moment they did, a big moving truck was coming down the street. The crooks were now dressed in Victorian suits. They looked like they had stepped out of a Charles Dickens novel. They had their arms overloaded with more costumes. Robin noticed something he hadn't before, all had headbands over their foreheads. The truck pulled to the shop. The crooks began loading the truck. As they ran out of things to load, they walked back into the shop and brought more. Robin wondered, where they taking this stuff?

Robin pulled out his grappling gun from his utility belt. He swung down to street knocking down two of the three of the crooks, one with a kick, the other with a kick, before his feet even touched the ground. "Hey guys," Robin said, "you really shouldn't be breaking and entering, and stealing! Don't you know that's a felony?"

There was something wrong with the three men. Their eyes were glassy and blank. There was neither anger nor fear in them. Robin could feel his brows go up. "You're not crooks, are you? You're victims!" The Mad Hatter! It had to be. Mind control devices fit his method of operation perfectly. But he didn't he usually use hats?

One of the men, the one still standing continued loading the truck. The other two stood back up as nothing had happened. They walked back towards the shop for more clothing. Robin moved in front on of them. He grabbed a hold of the man's arm stopping him from moving forward.

"Please sir," the man said, "Do not stand in the way." His eyes were still glassy. His words were spoken in a horrible fake British accent. "Master Carroll needs the clothes to dress the masses. We must help him."

Master Carroll? That confirmed it. Robin was ninety five percent certain that he was dealing with the Mad Hatter. Lewis Carroll was the name of the man who wrote Alice in Wonderland, a book that the Mad Hatter regarded as sacred and holy, the same way that some people thought of the Bible, and others the Koran.

Robin heard footsteps behind him. They came closer quickly, close enough that he could hear their heavy breathing. Someone was standing right behind him. Robin moved fast. He let go of the man in front of him then ducked and rolled out of the way. He turned around and looked back. One of the Victorian costumed men had a headband in his hands. If Robin had been one second slower he might be wearing that thing.

"You must join us," the one with the headband said in an fake British accent that was only slight better that his companion's.

"I don't think so," Robin said. He crossed his arms. He grinned widely. "There's no way I'm talking like that! Man do you ever need to watch the BBC!"

The man with the headband continued speaking. "Master Carroll ordered us to seek others to join his party. Anyone who tries to stop us must join us."

"Party?" Robin asked, "Do you mean tea party? No way! Cause that's for old ladies and little girls! And maybe Brits. Which by the way, you are so not! Seriously Mr., loose the accent."

"Master Carroll ordered us to speak this way. We must do what he says." The man with the headband in his hands, moved forward.

Robin joked for two reasons, one: it distracted his foes, and two: it was fun. The jokes weren't working. Mind controlled men couldn't easily angered or annoyed. And Robin was too tired, too worried, too stressed out to enjoy the humor. If he was funny at all it was by accident. He certainly wasn't having any fun.

He needed to come up with something else and fast. He couldn't just hurt the men, not if he had any other choice. They were innocent victims, normal citizens, not crooks. Even if they had had criminal records they would still qualify as innocents in this situation. They were living puppets. The person pulling the strings was the one at fault.

Robin did two cartwheels and a back flip, taking himself several feet down the sidewalk. The man with the headband kept moving forward. The man came closer. Robin kicked that extra headband out of the man's hands.

The thought occurred to Robin that if the man was a puppet, the headband was the strings. Robin needed to cut those stings. He ran at the man. Putting a hand on the man's shoulder, Robin flipped right over him, removing the headband in the process.

The man immediately started shouting, "Where am I? What happened? How I'd get here?!" The man took off running, his foots steps heavy against the concrete.

"Oh great!" Robin muttered sarcastically. Now how was he going to find the Mad Hatter? If the victims couldn't remember what happened once the headband was gone then they couldn't tell him anything. There was no telling where the Mad Hatter was.

The other two thieves and two more men from the truck started coming toward Robin. He pulled out his grabbling gun. He fired it and shot up to a rooftop three stories up. Once there, he waited. He pulled out a batarang and a small tracking device. With a little bit of wire he tied the tracking device to the batarang. The mind controlled thieves returned to their pillaging, bringing out even more costumes. When they were finished they got into the truck and took off.

Robin threw the batarang onto the top of the truck. He then pulled a small remote control from his utility belt. With the remote he summoned his car, the Redbird. The car pulled up along the sidewalk. It was an sporty red vehicle. It was one of Robin's favorite things. It was a gift, three months ago from Batman. To Robin it was a symbol, a sign that Batman was trusting him to act on his own more.

It was funny, just months ago, Robin had been longing for more independence. Now that Batman and the Justice League were gone, missing for nearly a week, he had it. He had more independence, and more responsibility than he ever wanted. The most recent and very bitter breakup of the Teen Titans less than a month ago meant he was more alone than ever. He still had Aunt Harriet and Alfred back at Wayne Manor but they weren't' out in the field; they couldn't provide the kind of aid he needed when things went wrong. It was only luck that Gotham had been so quiet. That kind of luck could not hold up long.

Firing the grabbling gun again, Robin swung down to the street. He moved around the car to the driver's side. Once he was in the car he took off down the road. He kept the car on autopilot as he pulled a handheld computer from the glove box. The computer was very small and really should have been stored in his utility belt but there only so much that one could store in a utility belt. Anything he might need that wouldn't fit in the belt tended to be stored in the car. He hooked the small computer up to the car's navigational system and set the commands for the car to follow the tracking device. He then sat back and thought about what he knew of the Mad Hatter.

The Mad Hatter's real name was Jervis Tetch. He was a scientist who never got much respect. One day when he pushed too far, his mind snapped. He called himself the Mad Hatter, and sometimes seemed to actually believe he was the character from the book. The nature and depth of his delusions shifted wildly from month to month. He could be ridiculous one time and murderous the next. The only thing constant was that the Mad Hatter was nuts.

Usually though the Mad Hatter was obsessed with Alice in Wonderland themes, that and hats. For some stupid reason known only to the villain himself, the Mad Hatter wanted Batman's cowl for his collection. So why was he suddenly obsessed with the Victorian era? The only connection Robin could see was that Lewis Carroll wrote the books during that time period.

Robin looked at the GPS screen. The tracking device and truck it was on, were headed near the old movie studios. The truck turned onto the road where the old Argus Pictures Studio backlot was. It figured. That place was huge and falling apart from three years of neglect. Worse still, the Argus Motion Picture Company had specialized in horror films. If it had been the Joker or the Scarecrow he was dealing with, he would more than a little worried. As it was, he was annoyed.

Within a few minutes the Redbird reached the front gates of the studio. The gates were busted. Anyone could drive right in. Robin took the car off autopilot. His hands went on the steering wheel. He moved the car slowly through the lot. He found the truck empty and abandoned at the back of an old soundstage. Anything could be waiting for Robin in there, anything. Not for the first time this week, he wished that the current Batgirl was still in Gotham City. Heck, he'd settle for Flamebird the original Batgirl, as irritating as she was, she would have been better than nothing. Any backup would have been appreciated. Robin was really starting to hate going into situations alone.

Robin crept around the soundstage looking for another way in. He picked a lock on a side door. He moved forward into the building. In under a minute he moving up high along a catwalk. Just below him was were the lights. Lower still almost ten feet down was the floor. There were all kinds of Victorian looking furniture and sets down there. There was a large crowd of over fifty people, men and woman of all different ages. The crowd was standing still. They were emotionless looking. All had were dressed in modern clothing. All of them had headbands on their foreheads.

Robin spotted the Mad Hatter down there standing in front of the crowd. Jervis Tetch was wearing a top hat and an absurd brightly colored version of a Victorian suit. The thieves dressed in period piece clothing were standing behind him with all the stolen costumes. Tetch was standing beside a machine with a mike in a hand. "Ladies and Gentlemen!" the Mad Hatter shouted into a mike, "My good followers of the Ways of Wonderland! I have procured the proper clothing. You may begin removing the disgusting most improper outfits from your bodies."

Ways of Wonderland? The Mad Hatter really was thinking of a certain book religiously! It took Robin a second to work out the rest of what Tetch said. He was asking the crowd to strip naked!

The crowd was slowly moving their hands to their shirts, pants, and skirts to obey the madman's orders. Robin had to do something! He had to stop this! Robin yanked out a batarang from his utility belt. He threw at the machine below. The batarang landed perfectly. The machine began to shoot sparks. Unfortunately the crowd didn't stop for several more seconds. When they did pause, all were in various states of undress.

"Eww!" Robin said, trying to cover his eyes. Several of the men were obese. The rolls of fat were not pleasing to the eye. The wrinkly old women were even worse.

At that moment the machine's effect completely wore off. The blank glassy eyed looks were placed by recognition. The minds were no longer controlled. People began to scream. The crowd panicked. Robin panicked too. His mind raced for a solution. He really didn't know what to do. An idea hit him like lightning. He pulled out his gas mask and the sleep gas pellets from his belt. He put the mask to his face. He ran along the catwalk throwing pellets down, dispersing them as evenly through the crowd as he could.

"Curiouser and curiouser," the Mad Hatter said, his tone one of wonder, not the expected anger. "I see the bat's calling card. I see his boy up above but I do not see-" The Mad Hatter's words just stopped in mid-sentence as he fell to the floor unconscious. The entire crowd fell down. Everyone below was out cold.

Robin ran the length of the catwalk carefully not looking down. He wished he could wash his mind clean of what he had just seen. Half dressed or completely naked, the human body was seldom pretty without clothes. Somehow, as irrational as it was, it seemed worse when it was a live body not a corpse on an autopsy table.

Robin made his way back to the Redbird. Once inside the car, he contacted the police on their own radio stations.

Robin swung down from the catwalk to the floor below. He tipped toed with great care around the undressed bodies. He noticed another machine near the mind control one. Was that what he thought it was? Yes, a police radio, complete with transmitter. What had the Mad Hatter been planning to do with that? Robin shook his head. He decided he didn't care. So long the bad guy's scheme was foiled, what did it matter?

Robin had a police radio in his car but no way to communicate out. Batman was at times, very paranoid. Robin glanced around the studio keeping his eyes off the floor. The place was old and trying to fall apart. When he stared at the sets he felt as he had stepped into an old gothic horror film. There was no active phones around, he was more than willing to bet that was true.

Robin played with the buttons on the radio to see if it would work. It did. He heard police chatter. "Um," Robin said, "The Mad Hatter and a bunch of mind controlled victims are in an abandoned movie studio. Most of the victims are undressed." **"Would you repeat that?" **a female officer asked over the radio.

"Studio uh…" Robin looked up at an odd a bit of writing that was on the ceiling. "Studio 33...I think…at Argus Pictures. They're all unconscious. The sleep gas won't last long, thirty minutes at most. Come immediately!" **"Uh, huh." **The policewoman's tone was one of disbelief.

"I'm serious!" Robin snapped.

"**Sure kid," **the policewoman said still disbelieving, "**You know it's illegal to use this frequency if-"**

"Look," Robin said, interrupting her, "I'm Robin."

Once again the woman said, **"Sure," **in a insincere voice.

"It's Robin!" the teenager yelled, "Do you really want to take the chance that I not making this up? You deal with guys like the Joker and Mr. Freeze all the time. In fact Basil Karlo made his first appearance as Clayface at Argus Pictures! Is it so hard to believe that the Mad Hatter would show up there?"

There was silence on the radio for more than half a minute,. Nothing but static filled the airwaves. Robin muttered to himself, "I am never ever becoming a police officer. Never!"

Another soon voice came on the police radio. This one Robin knew. It was Commissioner Gordon. **"Robin?!" **he exclaimed "Yes," Robin said with a tired sigh.

"**Son, are you alright?" **Gordon asked.

No, Robin thought, he was not okay. There was at least a dozen things going wrong with his life. Batman was missing. Robin normally only went on light patrols during school nights unless there was an emergency. Because of Batman's absence he now was forced to stay to up to two every night for the past five days. While the criminal activity was light by Gotham standard it wasn't that low by any other standard. There were still some things the police couldn't easily handle. As Dick Grayson he still had to go school during the day and was now getting detentions for tardiness and sleeping in class. On top of all that Batgirl, who was now living in Metropolis, was refusing to return his calls. Batgirl who was really the commissioner's own daughter Barbara Gordon. There was so much that Robin was tempted to yell at the commissioner but Batman trained him better than that. He settled for saying the lie, "I'm fine."

"Where's Batman, son?" the commissioner asked.

Robin couldn't answer that. He told the commissioner what he had told the policewoman before then turned switched the radio off. Robin made his back to the Redbird. As he was leaving the Studio lot, the police cars and ambulances were arriving. He was more than happy to leave them to the job of the dealing with the mess. He just wanted to get home and go to bed. Before he could sleep though, he would have to file a report on the night's actives. Just because Batman was gone did not mean he could slack off.

Robin yawned then shook his head. He knew he messed up some way this night. He was too tired and too stressed to figure out all that he did wrong.

Robin was driving home, taking a long route because he did not want to run into the police. He passed the Gotham river. He happened to glance up. On top of the nearby suspension bridge, there was someone. Normal people could not get up there without proper tools and equipment. He couldn't tell from this distance if it was a man or woman. The figure was dark and shadowy. It stood out sharply against the white snow and the moonlight. Robin wanted to believe he imagined it. He knew he hadn't.

He fought back a yawn. He drove to the bridge. At this time of night there was almost zero traffic on the bridge. Robin parked along the side of the bridge. He got out and looked up. He still couldn't tell the person's gender. Robin pulled out the grabbling gun and shot up to the top to stand beside the person.

It was a woman, with long black hair. Her face was Asian, possibly Chinese. She looked at least twenty if not older. Her face didn't draw his attention for long. The symbol on her chest did. Her outfit was all black except for a large yellow utility belt and the yellow outline of a bat. Robin stared. He knew that symbol. It was the same shape as the bat design used by Batman.

"Alright," Robin said with sarcasm. He forced himself to look back up at the woman's face. "Who do you think you are? Batgirl?"

"No, my renegade," she said smiling, "This one's host form is not Batgirl. Not any longer. She is Black Bat. I am Lady Kali."

"Host form?" Robin asked. Was this women crazy? Kali…He had heard that name before. Some sort of mythical figure, a goddess or something. Beyond that the name meant nothing.

"I can see that you do not understand," Lady Kali said. She smiled at him invitingly. She was flirting with him!

Uh oh! This wasn't good. Every fiber in his being screamed that this woman was dangerous. Robin didn't understand why he felt this way but he did.

"My renegade," she said affectionately. "There is no reason to be afraid of me." She laughed a cruel malicious laugh.

"Um, lady," Robin said nervously, "I'm not your anything. I never even met you before!"

"Not yet," Kali said, "I forget sometimes that you were ever so young. For I never met you at this age. So young, so innocent."

"I'm not innocent!" Robin shouted.

"Oh?" Kali arched a brow. "Have you ever been with a woman?"

Robin blushed. He hated himself for doing that. It was embarrassing.

Kali laughed again. "Do not feel shame. It only means that this time you are mine and mine alone. Neither that alien princess nor those other warrior women shall have you."

"This time?" Robin felt more than nervous. He felt spooked. This woman seemed more dangerous to him than a furious Catwoman, and Catwoman was a top martial artist almost on the same level same Batman. Robin backed away. He found himself standing at the edge. Below was the pavement. It was a long way down.

"Perhaps you are right to fear me after all," she said, "You have not the experience of my renegade."

"Lady," Robin said, "I'm not your renegade."

"No?" Kali put a hand on Robin's chest. "No, you are not him, yet. You are the boy who will someday become the man that is him, my renegade. I will play a role in shaping you this time, my Richard."

Robin felt his jaw drop with shock. She knew his name! His real name. His legal first name. He was Richard John Grayson. Most people didn't know that Robin was Dick Grayson. In theory very few were supposed to know. The reality was that quite a few of the superhero crowd knew. The founding members of the Justice League knew, as did all of the original Teen Titans, and more than half of the current lineup of the Teen Titans West. And the list continued. Robin realized suddenly that at least twenty five or more knew. So who had betrayed him? It was almost impossible to know unless this Kali revealed the person. Oh sure, Batman might have been able to figure it out in no time flat, but Robin was not the detective that his mentor was.

Kali pushed him right over the edge. He fell toward the pavement below. Kali swept down on a grappling line of her own. She grabbed him. She matched his speed and slowed the two of them down until they stop on the road part of the bridge. She landed near Robin's car. She smiled viciously at him. "Did you thing I would let you fall? You are mine. You-" She went quiet. She let go of him. She moved backwards, clutching at her head. "No! Not now!" She fumbled for something in her utility belt. She pulled out a small vial. Her hand shook dropping the vial. The glass broke. A strange purplish liquid spilt out onto the road.

Robin stood there by the Redbird, looking at Kali. There was something weird about her facial expressions, as if she was fighting something. Her body language shifted becoming less confident. Her face became more gentle. "The drug fades," she said. The sound of her voice was different, the accent and speech patterns more awkward as if speaking was harder to do. "Kali and Slade…They drugged to suppress will. Drugs fades… no…wears off. It will take long time to work fully. Sorry, so sorry Dick. I can't fight her long. She is ghost. My ancestor, Mother's grandmother. Only powerful people does she want to possess the bodies of. Only her descendents does she want to keep possessing. I'm strong. Too strong to her without drugs. You are, you were once… like big brother to me."

"You're older than me!" Robin shouted, "I've never seen you before in my life!"

The women nodded. "Here, yes. Then no. Then years older than me. Met many times. Fought side by side. Don't change Dick. Don't become Renegade. Not fake. Not real. Don't. Nightwing yes. Renegade no." The way she kept saying the word Renegade, Robin knew she meant it as a name.

The way she was speaking, it was broken and fragmented. English must not have been her native language. It did not come natural to her. It sounded though as if she had been talking about time travel. Robin had seen some weird things over the past four years. This included alien invasions and giant robots. Batman had spoken of dealing with vampires less than a year before Robin had first met him. It wasn't hard to believe in time travel. He knew it happened. Also, this woman knew too many things. Almost no one was aware that Robin had used the name Nightwing during a trip to the bottled city of Kandor. As far as Robin knew, only Superman, Supergirl and various members of the Bat Family knew that tale.

Robin was lost in thought. He didn't notice fast enough as the woman ran at him. Her fist connected with his jaw and everything went black.

Robin woke up to a horrible smell. He was in the Redbird. The door was open. A familiar face was leaning over him. The man was middle age and thin, with thinning hair and a thin mustache. He was Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne's butler and one of Batman's greatest allies. He was currently holding something in front of Robin's nose.

"Ugh! Alfred!" Robin yelled, "What is that?"

"Smelling Salts, Master Richard," Alfred said. He was holding a small bottle under Robin's nose.

"It smells alright!" Robin pushed Alfred's hands away. Alfred backed away out of the car standing straighter in the Batcave. He leaned against his cane with his left hand. Alfred was still not entirely recovered from injuries he received months ago in a very literal landslide. Injuries which had landed him in a coma for nearly a month.

Robin looked out the door at the roof of the Batcave. "Hey, how I did get here?"

Alfred raised his brows. "The car returned on it's own. I assumed young sir, that you ran into some sort of trouble. You must have set it to Autopilot."

"No," Robin said, "I didn't." He pulled the mask off his face. He yawned. "Say Alfred, what time is it?"

Alfred looked at his watch. "5:33 a.m. sir." "Aw no!" Dick had school in less than three hours. He glanced at the fuel indicator. The car was almost on empty. Dick removed a green glove from his left hand. With the glove still on his right hand he touched the buttons of the car's navigational system. The screen showed that the car had been driving itself all over Gotham for hours. Dick didn't feel rested at all. He knew why. He had been unconscious not asleep. There was a big difference between the two. He had been the victim of a very well done nerve strike. Whoever that woman was, Lady Kali or not, she was one heck of a fighter. Dick rose up out of the Redbird. He stretched. He stood. He wanted to sleep. He had a report to file first. He walked through the Batcave. A quick change of clothes five minutes later and he was in an a white tank top and grey sweatpants. Alfred had a no costumes rule that applied to the entire manor above. Alfred was seldom commanding but he was the one person who's rules must be obeyed.

Dick moved onward through the cave. He found his aunt, Harriet Cooper asleep in the chair in front of the Batcave's main computer. Dick smirked at her in an amused way, knowing that his legal guardian Bruce Wayne would not approve of this. Bruce wasn't here. As Batman he had gone missing with most of the Justice League.

The middle aged woman in Bruce's chair was slumped over, still dressed in a wrinkled dress that she had worn yesterday. Her pulled up grey and brown hair was coming down in places. Aunt Harriet was bossy, pushy and at times over bearing but she did care about Dick. She had shown up at the Wayne Manor not long before Alfred was seriously injured. She had helped run the manor in Alfred's stead. She was still helping out even as Alfred recovered.

Dick knew that Bruce hadn't liked her much at first. There had always been the fear that she would discover their secrets. And one day she did just that. Aunt Harriet surprisingly did not seem that upset or alarmed about Bruce being Batman. Dick being Robin was something of a different another matter.

Dick hated to disturb Aunt Harriet. If she saw how late it was she probably was going to go into lecture mode. He had to wake her though. He needed access to the computer.

Dick cautiously tapped Aunt Harriet on the shoulder. She woke up startled. "Wha? Heh?" she said looking around confused and bleary-eyed. "Oh, it's you, dear. You're back." As she became more alert, she shook her head disapprovingly. She stood and walked to nearby steps that led up to the manor.

Dick let out a sigh of relief. He seemed to have escaped his aunt's wrath. Then she turned around to look at him. It wasn't anger on her face. It was disappointment and worry. "If I thought it would do any good, I'd tell you to quit. But you're just like your father. You're no more willing give up this reckless lifestyle than John was the circus. I couldn't blame him. I loved the cirrus too when I was younger. If it was the circus that you were mixed up with, maybe I wouldn't be so concerned. You're not Bruce. You're not Batman."

"No," Dick said calmly, "I'm Robin. As long as Batman is gone I have to be out there every night. I have to protect the city in his place."

Aunt Harriet shook her head again. "How long can you keep that up? How long can we keep it up? Pretending that Bruce is still here. It'll be a week next Sunday since he disappeared. That's the day after tomorrow. The foundation that I've helping Bruce with. All those charity events I scheduled Bruce for…There's only so far, only so long that I can keep making excuses. Bruce is a public figure in this city. His absence will be noticed."

"So will Batman's!" Dick yelled. All the stress and repressed emotions boiled out. "Do you think I don't know that?! Arkham is a ticking time bomb! At any moment those lunatics could wreck havoc on the city! If they find out Batman's gone…" Dick shook. His self control was gone. He moved toward the chair that his aunt had recently vacated. He stood leaning against the back of the chair, clutching it tightly.

"You need to go to bed," Aunt Harriet said.

"No," Dick said, "I need to write up a report. It's what Bruce would do."

"I worry about you," Aunt Harriet said, "You're the only family I have left. But it's your life. You're old enough to make your own choices. I take back what I said about you being just like John. You're more stubborn than he ever was. " Dick heard Aunt Harriet's footsteps as she walked away. He heard other footsteps come his way. He felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.

It was Alfred. "Come Master Richard," Alfred said, "Mrs. Cooper is right. You need your rest. The report will wait." Alfred guided Dick away from the computer and up the stairs to the manor.

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**If you like the story, please review! Review are like paydays to me! Good reviews are a vote of confidence that tells me I'm doing something right!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. DC Comics does. This is just a fun writing exercise.**

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Chapter Two:

Dick Grayson opened his eyes. He was wearing pajamas. He was in a twin sized bed with a built-in in book shelf as part of the headboard. He looked around the large bedroom, at the circus posters on the walls. The gymnastic trophies on the dresser. The corkboard with notes pinned to it over the dresser. The banners of Gotham's various sports teams pinned to the walls. It was all familiar. It was his bedroom in the Wayne Manor.

He gazed at the nightstand. There was a digital alarm clock that now read 2:34 p.m. Dick groaned as he realized he had missed school. Last night's patrol had kept him up late. First the business with the Mad Hatter, then the mysterious Kali. Dick stared at the clock. The alarm clock should have woken him up. Some had to have cut it off and he knew it wasn't Alfred. He jumped out of bed glaring.

A minute later Dick was moving through the manor fully dressed. He was headed toward the kitchen. When he reached it he shouted, "Aunt Harriet!"

His aunt Harriet Cooper nee Grayson was standing at the isle countertop in the center of the kitchen. She was making homemade icing. Her right hand moved a spoon in circles around the contents of the mixing bowl. "Please dear, don't stomp," she said, "You'll cause the cake to go flat." Aunt Harriet smiled at him kindly. Her brown hair was pulled up in a bun. Her round glasses were on her face. There was a hint of what looked like flour on her left check. There was more of the white stuff on the long apron that was worn over her dress.

"Aunt Harriet!" Dick yelled, "You turned off the alarm clock! Why?"

Aunt Harriet didn't respond to him. She kept stirring the mixing bowl in front of her. Dick walked up to her. She stuck one of her fingers into bowl then pulled it out. Licking her finger, she said, "Hmm, it's not quite right. Missing something…"

"You made me miss school!" Dick said.

Aunt Harriet nodded. "You needed your sleep more than you needed school. You've gotten what, four hours of sleep a night this week? Sometimes less than that. It's not healthy."

"I've already used all my sick days earlier in the school year," Dick said, "According to the school rules you can't miss more than five days without a written doctor's note."

"That's already been taken care of dear," Aunt Harriet said, "Doctor Thompkins agreed to write the note. She's such a nice agreeable lady."

Dick's jaw dropped. Nice and agreeable were not words he would use to describe Doctor Leslie Thompkins, not when it came to excuses to miss school. He had asked her to write notes more than once when he wasn't sick. Always she had flat out refused him. She disproved of his nighttime activities quite strongly. Doctor Thompkins was one of the few normal people, non superhero types, that knew Dick was Robin. Dr. Thompkins was one of the three people who helped take care of Bruce Wayne the most after his parents died. The other two were the now deceased Jarvis Pennyworth, the former butler and caretaker of the Wayne Manor, and Mrs. Chilton who was at one time the housekeeper for Bruce's uncle, Phillip Wayne. Without the loving care those three had given him, Bruce would probably not be alive. He certainly wouldn't be sane. Dick hoped that Bruce was still alive wherever he was. Dick's guardian had gone missing before but this time seemed different to him for some reason. Maybe it was the way he went missing, Zeta Beams. The entire League had been whisked away except for two members.

"You're thinking about Bruce again. Aren't you?" Aunt Harriet said.

"How did you know?" Dick asked.

"You get this worried look on your face, every time," Aunt Harriet said, "It's not easy. Believe I know, but you have to have faith. Bruce will be okay. He's likely off on some cosmic adventure with the rest of the Justice League. He'll be alright. He will. You'll see."

Dick hoped his aunt was right. But he feared that she wasn't. As he walked out of the kitchen, he heard his aunt say, "If he doesn't come back soon, there's going to be a lot problems to deal with when he does." That much Dick agreed with.

Hours later Dick was swinging on the rings in an gymnasium in the manor. He was dressed in white leggings and a tight stretchy blue shirt. The ceilings in the room were fifteen feet high. It needed to be with a high bar and rings in the room. There were mats on the floor. There was every thing that a male gymnast could dream of in here. Bruce had spared no expense. Some of the gear Dick didn't even use much.

There were large wide windows at one end of the room, windows that led out on to a balcony. It was a reminder that this room used to be a ballroom before Bruce had it converted. The manor had once had three ballrooms. It still had two. The manor was huge. Dick had no idea how Alfred had ever managed to keep the whole place clean. Alfred's injuries now kept him from such cleaning. Aunt Harriet didn't even bother to try.

"Richard John Grayson!" Aunt Harriet yelled.

Dick winced. By the sound of her voice, she was standing in the doorway behind him. It was almost as if by thinking of her, he had summoned her. An old phrase that started with the words, 'Speak of the devil,' came to mind. He didn't dare say it though. He knew if he did he would really get yelled at. Using the rings and the strength of his arms Dick lifted up in air so that his feet were pointed at the ceiling and his head at the floor.

"You stop that!" Aunt Harriet said, "You come down this instance! You know you're not supposed to be in here without someone else acting as a spotter!"

Dick lowered himself back to the floor. He walked over to the doorway and his aunt. "I don't have a spotter on the streets," he said.

"You shouldn't be on the streets," Aunt Harriet said, "I know I can't stop you there. I will not however put up with reckless behavior at home. Bruce wouldn't either. You know that."

Dick sighed. "You're right," he said. He hated to admit it.

Aunt Harriet shook her head. She crossed her arms. "Sometimes I don't know what I'm going to do with you. You're the only family I have left. If some ever happened to you I really don't what I'd do." Aunt Harriet looked worried.

Dick didn't know what to say to her. Instead of speaking, he reached out to hug her. She accepted. Their arms wrapped around each other. A few seconds later there was a distinct sound of sniffing. As she pulled away from him, Aunt Harriet was wrinkling her nose. "You might want to take a shower," she said, "You don't exactly smell your best."

Dick rolled his eyes. "You think? I have been working out, you know." Dick knew his aunt wasn't trying to be harsh. She was just concerned about him. She was sometimes too much of a mother hen toward him, but he knew he was lucky to have someone who cared that much. Dick thought quickly searching for something witty, something not negative, to say. As an idea hit him, he grinned. "Robin Hood probably didn't smell like a rose either. All that time hiding in Sherwood Forest and all." "Robin Hood didn't have access to modern technology," Aunt Harriet said, "You do."

"That's true." Dick flashed another grin. "I'll tell you something else he didn't have. He didn't have an aunt as lovely as you."

Aunt Harriet shook her head again but this time she was smiling.

Dick gave a mock bow. "Milady," he said in his best fake British accent. Unlike the mind controlled goons he encountered last night, he was good at fake accents. At least he thought he was. Aunt Harriet laughed a little. "You're not Robin Hood!"

"No," Dick said, speaking normally. He smiled. "Just a young Robin and that's than more enough." Robin wasn't just the codename he used in the field. It was also the nickname his mother gave him. Red had been his favorite color once. Also, he had been more than a little obsessed with Robin Hood when he was a kid.

A few hours later in jeans and a t-shirt, Dick sat at the main the computer of the Batcave. His fingers moved on the keyboard typing up the report he should have written earlier. The tapping sound coming from the steps told him that Alfred was coming down the stairs with his cane. Alfred moved slowly to stand a few feet from the chair. "Master Richard," he said, "The Bat-signal has been lit." "It has?" Dick asked. Alfred nodded. Dick groaned. For the past week things had been quiet enough that the Bat-signal wasn't needed. It was a lucky thing. It meant that the police could handle most of the problems. Batman's absence wouldn't be noticed as much.

Not for the first time Dick wished that Barbara Gordon was still in town. She just had to accept that job in Metropolis. Dick wished more than ever that she hadn't. Batgirl would have been a big help this week. Batgirl and Robin showing up at the police station would look better than Robin alone. Dick wished that the so called 'Bat Family' was a real family, or more importantly a team, one with several members. More vigilantes working in Gotham City would make things so much easier. Then again, maybe it wouldn't. Thoughts of Flamebird, the first Batgirl, passed through Dick mind. Flamebird's occasional visits to Gotham always made things more complicated.

Dick wondered for a second about that woman he met in the early morning hours on the bridge. If she was being truthful she was a time traveler. That name Black Bat sounded like a connection to a future Bat Family. Saying that she was a former Batgirl was definitely a connection to future Bat Family. Was she was a time traveler? Was she what she said she was? Or was she just some nut? Dick resisted the urge to shrug. He wasn't likely to get anymore answers about that unless he encountered her again.

A playful bark echoed from somewhere else in the cave. Alfred looked mildly annoyed. Dick grinned. Both knew what that bark meant. "Ace," Dick said, "The Bat-hound! He strikes again!" Ace was a German Sheppard that Bruce had taken in a few years ago. No matter how many times the dog was kicked out, he kept finding another way into the cave.

"Ace! Here boy!" Dick shouted. The dog didn't come. "Where is he? Why isn't he coming?"

Alfred raised a brow. "I can't say I'm surprised Master Richard. You did yell rather harshly at the dog multiple times these past few days."

"I was worn out!" Dick said defensively. He tilted his head down. His voice grew softer until it was almost a whisper. "That's no excuse. Is it?" "I assume, young sir," Alfred said, "that you mean that you mean question rhetorically."

Dick stood up. There was a dog whistle near the keyboard. He picked the whistle and grinned. "Happy dog hunting!" Dick said, "I'd help but I've got a certain police commissioner to go see. I kind of envy you. You've got the better job tonight."

"I rather think not," Alfred said, his looking up toward the ceiling of the cave as if looking toward heaven. Dick smiled in mock sympathy then patted Alfred on the shoulder. No matter how much Alfred might protest otherwise, Dick knew he loved the dog.

A few minutes later Dick was in dressed in the Robin costume, the one with the long sleeves and the yellow tights. The mask, not yet applied with spirit gum, was in his hands. He stood by the driver's door of his car, the Redbird. He opened the door. Seemingly out of nowhere a brown furred blur jumped up into the car. The German Sheppard sat in the driver's seat like he belonged there. Ace was a fine dog with somewhat unusual and distinctive markings. There was a diamond shape, a star, on his forehead.

Dick reached with a gloved hand to pet Ace's head. "Get down boy. You can't come with me tonight." Batman had used Ace during a few cases. A mask had put over Ace's head to hide the markings. Dick had added a cape. He'd thought it was the coolest thing ever but Dick was twelve at the time. Bruce had thought whole idea of the Bat-Hound was ridiculous and had only used the dog in the field a handful of times. Mask or no mask, the risk of exposure was just too great.

The only problem was that Ace still thought he should be helping out. The dog sat in the driver's seat and Dick petted the dog for a minute. Dick then pointed at the floor of the cave. "Out!" Dick ordered. When Ace didn't move, Dick had to forcefully drag him out. He almost fell doing so. For an old dog, Ace was awfully strong. As soon Ace was out of the car Dick stared at the seat and shook his head. There was dog fur in the seat. Ace was shedding. Dick stared at his hands, at his green gloves. There was a hint of brown fur on them. His domino mask was on the floor. It too had fur on it. He brushed off the hairs as best he could. He then attached his mask to his face.

Twenty minutes later Robin met Police Commissioner Jim Gordon on the roof top of the police headquarters. The bat signal was still lit up a few feet away. Snow was falling down lightly. The old grey haired commissioner stared intently at Robin. "Where's Batman?" he asked.

"He's busy," Robin said.

"Uh hmm," Gordon's tone suggested he didn't believe him.

"Honest," Robin said, "He's busy right now. Something with the Justice League. " It was sort of the truth. He really wished Batgirl was with him right now. There was something about the Commissioner that made him nervous. This was especially true when Robin was trying to hide something. The man was alarmingly good at seeing past lies and half truths.

"If you can," Gordon said, "Tell him to come back here. He's needed. A group of new villains have shown up. They demanded the presence of someone called Nightwing." "W-what?" Robin asked, his voice squeaking slightly.

"You know him, I take it," Gordon said.

"Not exactly," Robin said, "I used that name in an adventure a few years ago. Last night some crazy lady claiming to be a time traveler from the future, called me that." Gordon nodded. His face was grim. "So they were asking for you, son."

Robin shrugged. "It certainly looks that way." Robin crossed his arms. "Do you have any idea who these guys were?"

"No," Gordon said, "Just that they're powerful. Meta-humans, most of them. They've committed mostly petty robberies today but it has been escalating. Every hour that Nightwing doesn't show up to stop them, they've threatened to do something worse. Eyewitnesses said that one them could somehow teleport through mirrors. Another is known to have some sort of ice abilities. A store clerk was sent to the hospital with a case of hypothermia because of this. It's believed that a third villain had some sort of weather manipulation abilities. When it should have snowing, it was raining. It was storming and lightning but only over a building that they broke into. I wish I could tell you more, son."

Robin nodded slightly. "You've told me enough Commissioner. Enough that I'm not going into any fights with them completely blind. If I can help it, I'm not going into a fight with any of them on my own. If you don't mind sir, I'd like bring in on this some of my friends, the rest Teen Titans."

Gordon's brows went up in surprise. He then winced. After a moment he sighed. "Alright," he said in reluctant tones, "Just not those Titans West fellows."

Robin grinned. "I'm smarter than that sir." The self-destructive and air headed actions of the current Titans West was well known even by people who didn't pay attention to super heroes. Robin would have to be really desperate to bring them in. He'd sooner deal with being bossed by senior citizens like the Justice Society than deal the Titans West.

"Where's Batman?" Gordon asked his voice serious and determined. James Gordon was someone that the teenage vigilante respected. Someone Robin trusted as much he trusted anyone who wasn't in on his secrets. It was hard not to answer the older man with the truth.

Robin felt his brows try to go down. His eyes narrowed. He grabbed his grabbling gun and jumped off the roof to avoid the Commissioner.

For the next half hour, Robin drove around in the Redbird. The police radio installed in the car, blared but there was no mention of the mysterious crooks. It occurred to him only belatedly that he should have gotten a list of the places that they robbed. It was a sign of stress, maybe, that he forgot. He could just imagine what Aunt Harriet would say. 'You're sixteen! You're too young to be so stressed out. Your greatest worries should be schoolwork, girls, and sports." Hah! Dick only wished that those were his only problems. The fate of the entire city could very well rest on his shoulders and he knew it.

Robin set the Redbird to autopilot. He then reached across the passenger seat to the glove box. He flung the little door open and began rummaging through the compartment. In under a minute he had the Titans communicator in the palm of his hands.

He had no idea if anyone was going to answer. The last time Teen Titans had gathered they had argued badly. Things had been said that could not be easily be taken back. Aqualad could be on land. He could just as easily be somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. The last Robin heard, Wonder Girl had gone back to Themyscira for more training in the ways of her adopted people. For some odd reason known only to the Amazons, Electronics not built on Paradise Island had an odd tendency not to work there. As for Speedy? He had over the past three months gone downright anti-social; bitter over Green Arrow's neglect and taking it out on everyone else. Only Kid Flash was still on speaking terms with Robin and they hadn't talked in several days. They hadn't spoken, Robin realized since the day before Batman went missing. The second Flash, the current Flash was also missing. Both older heroes, both mentors were active members of the Justice League.

Robin stared at the object in his left hand. The communicator was a thick flat circular device that could held with one hand. A stylized T dominated the center of the machine. Robin pressed a button. "Kid Flash," he said, "Come in Kid Flash."

"Robin!" a voice shouted through the device. It was a voice that was too young to be Kid Flash. It was too high pitched. "Cool! Ultra, ultra cool!" the voice yelled, "I'm talking on one of the Titan's retro thingies! Does this mean I'm a Teen Titan? I mean, I'm not a teen yet but I'd make a great Titan! I would!"

"Who is this?" Robin asked suspiciously. He thought he knew but he had to ask.

The child on the other communicator went on speaking as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Am I one of the Titans now? Can I be on the team? Please? Please! Pleasepleasepleaseletmejoin!Youwon'tregretit!" The kid's voice sped up more and more until it was impossible to understand what he was saying.

Robin groaned. "Impulse! Speed talk. Oh great!" It just had to be Impulse. Sometimes Robin hated it when he was right.

There were exactly nine speedsters in the world that Robin knew of; and only one of them was young enough that his voice hadn't changed yet. Impulse's real name was Bart Allen. He was the son of Barry Allen, the current Flash and Barry's wife Iris West. Bart was seven years old yet his parents had only been together for four years. The kid hero had been made not born, the product of a mad sciences' lab sometime in the thirtieth century.

Impulse went on speaking. It was almost like buzzing, it was that fast. Robin couldn't stand it. "Impulse!" Robin shouted, "Shut up!"

"Opps!" Impulse sounded sheepish, "I was talking too fast again. Wasn't I? Real life is so not like Virtual Reality."

"Where's your cousin?" Robin asked.

"Kid Flash?" Impulse said, "I don't know."

Robin put a hand over his eyes. "Where are you?" "Wally's room!" Impulse shouted cheerfully, "What about you? New York? L.A.? The moon?"

"No." Robin sighed glaring uselessly at the communicator. "Just get off the line. If you see your cousin tell him that I'm dealing with a weather manipulator, a mirror teleported and an ice manipulator."

"Captain Cold, the Weather Wizard and the Mirror Master," Impulse said, "Yup, It sounds like them. Let me go check." The line went quiet. Thirty seconds later Impulse yelled out, "Nope! It's not them! Uncle Len and the rest of the Rouges are playing cards right now. So where are you again?"

There was five seconds of silence before Impulse spoke again. "I know! You're in Gotham! I think I know the way to the Batcave. You know it's in the history books the thirtieth century? At least it was or is will be in Professor Thrawne's VR Program. Which of course is not the same as real life. Future tense, past tense, present tense, real tense, it's all so awfully confusing. So do you want me to come to Gotham City now?"

"NO!" Robin yelled. The communicator went quiet. Two minutes later the Redbird's GPS screen went blank replaced with a direct video link to the Batcave. A startled looking Alfred could be seen. His eyes were blinking rapidly.

"Young master," Alfred said sounding somewhat alarmed, "We have an unexpected intruder. He's rather young."

Robin let out a groan. "Let me guess. He's wearing a red and white costume."

Alfred raised a brow. "Yes."

"I'll be there shortly," Robin said, "Just keep him occupied."

"May ask how?" Alfred asked, "It seems to me that he's doing a decent job of that on his own. Oh my…" Alfred's voice trailed off. "Young man, the head of a T-Rex model is a most inappropriate place to sit! Get down…!"

Robin found that all he do could was groan, again.

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